


Beginning, Building Bridges

by zen_fox



Series: The Kandreil Continuation [1]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Healing, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Slow Burn, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-02-23 06:28:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13184280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zen_fox/pseuds/zen_fox
Summary: After the events of The King's Men, Kevin tries to pick up the pieces of his life. Who is he outside of Riko Moriyama's shadow? Apart from Exy, what does he want? Who does he want?And most importantly of all: can he actually have any of it?





	1. may

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this story contains canon-typical allusions to the past abuse of all the characters involved: they're vague, but they're present. 
> 
> The series is Kevin-focused, and will ultimately be Kandreil. For this story, the primary ship is Andrew/Neil, with Kevin trying to work out where and how he fits into their lives as a friend, when what he really wants is something more.
> 
> There are also mentions of past Riko/Kevin— part of the story's focus is Kevin coming to terms with just how abusive and highly toxic that relationship was. Kevin/Thea is temporarily featured, too, including their breakup. (Neither of these ships are described in any explicit detail, but are referenced throughout.)

 

* * *

 

**may**

 

* * *

 

Nobody understands.

 

Over the years, Kevin has more or less made his peace with that. Riko did not understand his grief for his mother, though in the beginning he tried. The Master did not understand that Kevin gave the best effort he could, but that Riko was the reason he couldn't be better. Jean did not understand what it meant to be Riko's second, because his own horrors were too great. Andrew did not understand what it was like to need Exy, though sometimes Kevin saw flickers of interest in him. Neil did not understand what it was like to love someone and fear them at the same time— although of all people, he _should_ understand, and that's why this is the one that sticks in Kevin's throat the most.

 

That, or because Neil is the one currently ripping into him.

 

Kevin's too drunk to be certain right now.

 

"I can't fucking believe this," Neil says, arms folded tightly across his chest, his scars hidden away beneath his new armbands. Andrew's idea, Kevin can only assume. It figures. Of course it does.

 

Anger and bitterness chase each other around in a circle for pride of place in Kevin's heart; right now bitterness is winning, but he thinks it's only a matter of time before anger ends up on top again.

 

"Then go away." He looks up at Neil, hoping for firm dismissal, though he suspects he looks more bleary than anything. A four-day bender will have that effect, but Kevin can't bring himself to care. The season is over; they have no practices for at least a month. The court doesn't need him right now, and he has no place off it anymore: his spot at Andrew's side has been filled by Neil, Riko is dead, and Thea is hundreds of miles away, so where is there for him to be? Drunk on his father's couch seems as good a place as any.

 

Neil doesn't seem convinced by the argument (Kevin belatedly realises he didn't actually get around to saying any of that out loud, but it shouldn't matter— isn't it all obvious anyway?) and only continues to look down at him in more ways than one.

 

"What, so you can drink yourself back into a coma?"

 

Kevin shrugs and reaches for the bottle. Neil's faster —Neil's always faster— and snaps it out of his reach.

 

"I'd think someone who lies as much as you might be better at it." This time, the words come out nicely enunciated, and Neil finches a little. "You took back your game, and the season is over. You don't have to try to pretend you care, especially if you're going to do such a shitty job. It's insulting."

 

Neil stills completely, bottle still annoyingly held back and out of Kevin's immediate reach.

 

"You think I don't _care_?"

 

Kevin doesn't bother to dignify that question with a response; he only puts his hand out for the bottle.

 

Neil stares from it and back to his face, incredulity stitching his features into an expression Kevin can't read.

 

"You think I don't care." Neil eyes the bottle like he might heave it at the wall. "You're such a stupid fuck, do you know that? Jesus. Andrew's said it enough times, but I never believed him until right now."

 

" _Andrew_ ," Kevin says, and yeah, he was right: there's the anger, back again. "Well, if Andrew says it, then it must be true."

 

"That's not what I said. That is the exact opposite of what I sai—"

 

Kevin waves him off before he can finish his sentence. Another lie, presumably; Kevin doesn't want to hear it.

 

"Neil, just go. You came here to tell me you think I'm an idiot for not celebrating. You've done it. Now get out."

 

"I won't." The words seem to surprise even Neil himself, but it doesn't deter him: he sets the bottle on the other side of the coffee table where Kevin can't reach it, then parks himself on the table between them so he's all that Kevin can see. In a fit of pique, Kevin tries to look through him to the bottle, gaze boring through his mid-section.Neil doesn't seem deterred by that, either. "You really think I don't care?"

 

"I think I don't want to talk about it, and that I want my fucking vodka back. Anything more than that sounds like too much effort."

 

" _Kevin_ ," Neil says, and when Kevin finally lifts his gaze from the spot where Neil had disappeared his bottle to, he finds Neil actually looks... Upset. "I care. I wouldn't have come here if I didn't care. I just don't understand. After everything he did to you, why are you _mourning_ him?"

 

Kevin is at a loss to explain. He shouldn't _have_ to explain, but Neil is looking at him like he's completely lost, an expression that tugs at something raw in Kevin's chest.

 

He hates himself a little for being so soft, but it makes him want to find a way to make Neil understand, because even without understanding, it's very plain that Neil _does_ care. It's written all over his face— He cares in a way Riko never did, never could have, and it makes the question all the more valid. Why is Kevin mourning Riko, who never cared for him? Riko, who hurt the one person who so obviously does care about him? It's insane, he knows it's insane, and yet every time Kevin thinks about Riko, there's still an awful, yearning grief that threatens to devour him whole, and suddenly he is possessed with the desire to make Neil understand not just because he cares, but because maybe —just maybe— if he can make Neil understand, then Kevin can understand himself.

 

"He was—"

 

_My brother. My friend. My lover. My tormentor. My owner. My other half._

 

_Someone in just as bad a position as I was. Someone who made all the wrong choices. Someone who wasn't always awful. Someone who will never get the chance to be better. Someone who needed to be stopped. Someone I'm not sure I know how to live without._

 

All the words just die on his tongue, and Neil's starting to look frustrated again, so Kevin puts a hand over his own face so he doesn't have to see it. It's reflexive, so it's his left hand, and as soon as he does it, he knows it's a mistake— Neil's gaze lands on the scars and he makes an irritated sound, catching Kevin's hand and turning it around so Kevin has to look at them, too.

 

" _He_ did this. To you. Because you were better than him. Kevin, for god's sake— You didn't see me go to pieces when my father got killed, did you?"

 

Kevin's gaze snaps from his hand to Neil's face and he blinks, but Neil seems firm in his conviction.

 

"It's not the same."

 

"It's exactly the same. Riko was to you what my father was to me."

 

Kevin just stares at him, uncomprehending.

 

"No," is all he manages to get out of his mouth, because there are so many words jostling for prime position that he chokes on them. "No, it's. It wasn't like that at all."

 

Neil's stare is hard and unforgiving.

 

"Do you know what he told me when I was in Evermore? _I'm going to love hurting you like I loved hurting Kevin_. Somehow I don't think he was just saying that to get at me."

 

The words feel like knives under his skin— Maybe it's hurt at the fact that Neil would come at him like this, or maybe it's just a sense memory triggered by the suggestion, but either way it's accompanied by a wild wave of nausea that sees Kevin surging to his feet.

 

"Get _out_ ," he hisses, and stumbles out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom. Neil doesn't follow, though Kevin's not nearly drunk enough to think he might actually have listened. He shuts the door behind himself and just about manages to make it to the toilet before he's throwing up, an ability honed through years of micro-management of his body in the wake of training, and the Master's punishments, and Riko.

 

He remains on the floor for a while after he flushes, wondering how long he would have to stay in here for Neil to be gone when he came back out. Hours, probably. More time than he wants to spend on a hard tile floor, certainly. He struggles to his feet and rinses out his mouth, then figures since he's here he might as well wash his face. He inspects himself in the mirror afterwards, bothered by his reflection: he's too pale, the dark circles under his eyes standing out in stark relief against his drawn skin. His eyes are bloodshot, and his hair is a wreck.

 

The chess piece on his cheek seems mocking now. _Queen_. But queen of what, exactly? Who is he now? What is his future? Where does he go from here?

 

Too many questions, but he can at least answer that last one: the shower. Where he's going is the shower.

 

Fuck Neil. Let him stay out there all day if he wants to.

 

...But Kevin doesn't spend all day in the shower, only about fifteen minutes. He feels better when he comes out, too, not that he's inclined to admit it to Neil, who has taken it upon himself to make food in Kevin's absence. It's just a grilled cheese, and Kevin considers refusing it out of spite, but to his surprise he is hungry, and he knows Neil would just eat it himself if he doesn't.

 

Instead, he parks himself at the table in his towel and wolfs it down in about three bites, much to Neil's amusement.

 

"You want another?"

 

Kevin shakes his head, then puts his cheek in his palm and studies Neil carefully. He's leaning against the counter, one foot crossed over the other, and for the moment, the fury seems to have gone out of him. Kevin's not sure coming back around to their previous topic is a wise idea, but he can't help himself.

 

"You really think it was the same."

 

Neil sighs, reaching up to run a hand through his hair.

 

"Obviously not to you."

 

He looks faintly disgusted by this, and that bothers Kevin more than he cares to admit, even to himself. Kevin considers him a minute, then pushes out the chair across from him with one foot. Neil also hesitates for a minute before he sits, but when he does, he folds his arms across the table and looks at Kevin expectantly.

 

"You never loved your father, did you?" The words are accusatory, but Kevin's tone is mild. He already knows the answer.

 

Neil looks at him like he's mad.

 

"No."

 

Such a simple, succinct response. That's clearly not the path to getting through to him, so he tries another tack.

 

"Your mother?"

 

That one seems to hit Neil harder; it takes him longer to answer, fingers turning to white where they press against his arms.

 

"It's— Complicated."

 

"Then you can understand. It was _complicated_ with Riko, too. Not at the end, no: at the end there was just brutality and madness, and I don't just mean the night he—" He swallows, forcing himself to get the words out, and how he aches for the bottle he knows is still in the living room. "The night he broke my hand. For months before that, maybe since we started classes at Edgar Allen, he'd been getting worse and worse. Maybe on some level he already knew that I was holding back, or maybe all the pressure..." He trails off and looks down, pressing the pad of his finger to a crumb left on his plate, and licks it away. "Before then, though? It wasn't all bad. And before that, some of it was even good."

 

"That doesn't excuse the things he did to you. Or to Andrew."

 

There's no mention of himself, but that's par for the course with Neil. For all that he complains about Andrew not caring about himself enough, Neil is stunningly similar sometimes.

 

Maybe that's why they're with one another and not with him.

 

It's not a comfortable thought. Besides, it doesn't matter— Nobody has ever made Kevin a priority for long, so why shouldn't he look after himself first when it's so obvious that nobody else will do it for him? His father has the team, Andrew has Neil, Neil has Andrew, and who else is there?

 

He'd thought it would be Riko, once.

 

He realises now how stupid that was, so why can't he let go?

 

"It's not about excuses."

 

"Then _what_ , Kevin?" Neil's voice is thin with frustration, the fury back and starkly visible in the angry lines of his shoulders and brows. "What? You can't excuse it— Good. You shouldn't. So why can't you just be glad that he's gone and he can't hurt us ever again?"

 

"Because that means he can't ever do anything else, either!" The words that explode out of him are as much a surprise to Kevin as they are to Neil. "Because it means he can never realise he fucked up. He can never apologise. He can never try to make it better. We all get a shot at a new life, a second chance, and he gets put six feet under while everyone dances on his grave, and that's it, that's _all_."

 

Neil is staring at him with his mouth open in a tiny o, but Kevin has no intention of letting him interject.

 

"You think you hate him for what he did— You lived under the threat of him for _less than a year._ I spent h _alf my life_ living with him, watching him grow from a boy I loved into a man that was dark and twisted and eaten up by his own envy and fear and anger. I loved him because he was all I had, and I hated him for the same reasons. Every year, it got worse, and I kept thinking that I should be able to pull him back, that I could stop him."

 

He chances another glance at Neil. He's closed his mouth now, and his lips are pressed into a tight, thin line, like he wants to say something but for once in his life knows better, so Kevin continues. 

 

"And for a while, I could. I could distract him with Exy and plans and talk about the future, about Court, about how we'd make the Master sorry for the things he did to us, about what it would be like when we were on a Pro team and we could live in a place we chose. How we'd find somewhere high up with beautiful views befitting true Ravens, how we'd never have to live in the dark again.

 

"I thought it would be enough. I thought I would be enough. But it wasn't, and I wasn't, and the older we got, the worse he became. I couldn't save him from himself— and I couldn't save anyone else from him, either." He swallows thickly, dropping his gaze to the table in front of him, unable to meet Neil's eyes any longer. "The things he did to Jean were despicable. I knew that, and I still left. I knew what it would mean, but I left him behind, just the same. I did that, and I get another chance. As does Jean himself, even after what he did to you. As do you, and Andrew, and everyone else. Everyone gets another chance but him."

 

He balls up his hands in an attempt to quell the bile rising in his throat, trying to force it back down again so he can choke out one last question:

 

"Why are we afforded that opportunity, and he isn't?"

 

"Because he wouldn't have taken it." There's no hesitation before Neil answers. He looks like he might be sick, but his voice is as firm and solid as Kevin has ever heard it."You left because you had no other choice. Jean did what Riko told him because he had no other choice. Me, Andrew, the rest of the team— The things we've done, we did because we had to. All those things— Riko was the source of them. He did them because he liked it. If Tetsuji had keeled over with a heart attack, do you think he would have behaved any differently? You think he would have stepped back and said _Okay, nobody has to be afraid of me anymore_?You think he would have stopped torturing his teammates, would have started being a Captain instead of a King, would have looked at you and Jean and seen anything other than the numbers on your faces? Riko chose to be the way he was, and it wasn't—"

 

He breaks off and pushes away from the table, standing up and looking like the might upend it for a minute before he catches Kevin's chin in his hand.

 

"Riko was _not_ your responsibility. What happened to him was not your fault. What happened to you was not your fault."

 

Kevin opens his mouth to protest and Neil pinches it shut with his thumb, staring down at Kevin like there is nothing else in the world. They stay like that for a moment, and, as Neil's gaze sweeps over him, there's a flicker of surprise in his expression where it seems like he's seeing Kevin for the first time, but then his eyes harden again, sharpen, and his thumb presses harder against Kevin's lips when he tries to speak.

 

He's been taking lessons from Andrew, Kevin thinks, and he hates how sourly that thought sits in his stomach.

 

"No. This isn't an opinion, so don't argue. This is a fact."

 

"He's right."

 

As if the thought had summoned him, Kevin looks around to find Andrew standing in the doorway of the kitchen, car keys still in his hand. Given the intensity of their argument, Kevin's not surprised he didn't hear him come in, but it occurs to him then exactly how bad this must look: Kevin sitting down wearing only a towel around his waist and Neil standing over him with a thumb over his mouth, tension thick in the air around them.

 

Andrew doesn't seem remotely concerned, only pocketing his keys and stepping into the kitchen to stand at Neil's side. Seeing them together like this is too much for Kevin in his current raw state, so he immediately tries to tug the layers of arrogance and indifference he wears as armour back over himself. Neil withdraws his hand, finally, and Kevin feels something release in his chest, though he's not sure if it's relief or disappointment.

 

"How much did you hear?"

 

"Enough to know you are talking shit. You are not responsible for Riko's crimes. You are not responsible for his death, either." Andrew slants a look at Neil. "You weren't answering your phone."

 

"You didn't call," Neil says, and then, off Andrew's look: "I set it to only ring for calls from you."

 

Andrew gives a huff of annoyance.

 

"The others are concerned you were over here too long unsupervised. Go and call them with the happy news that you are alive."

 

Neil digs his phone out of his pocket, and his eyes widen when he sees the screen.

 

" _Shit_. Fifteen missed calls? What did they think he was going to do, choke me out?" Andrew opens his mouth to reply, but Neil waves him off. "Yeah, okay; never mind."

 

He eyes Kevin for a moment, then slips outside onto the balcony to call Matt or Dan or whoever it was that was concerned that Kevin wasn't safe for him to be around. The thought of them thinking that boils Kevin's blood, but there's nothing to be done about it: they will never understand, and unlike with Neil, Kevin doesn't care to expend the energy on trying to make them get it.

 

When he's gone, Andrew's gaze drags over him slowly, then flicks away to the sink.

 

"Go put some clothes on."

 

Kevin goes. When he returns, Neil is nowhere in sight, but Andrew has taken up position on the couch, the bottle of vodka in one hand. He holds it out to Kevin when he approaches, and Kevin raises a brow.

 

"I thought the point of this was to sober me up?"

 

"Neil's point, not mine."

 

Kevin considers this for a while before snagging the bottle from his loose fingers and joining Andrew on the couch.

 

"Where did he go?"

 

"Back to the Tower. The others are angry; I thought he might calm them down."

 

" _You_ don't seem angry."

 

The look Andrew sends him is so incredulous it almost burns.

 

"Did you expect that I would be?"

 

Kevin takes a long swallow from the bottle and drops heavily against the seatback. Andrew takes the bottle back from him and takes a swig. It's... Almost nice, in the sense that it reminds him of when he had come to Palmetto first. Kevin had been a mess then, too, and Andrew had been—

 

His. Andrew had been his.

 

Now he's Neil's, and for all that most things are better now, there are some differences Kevin has yet to make his peace with. 

 

"No," he says finally, after a long pause. "I didn't. But everyone else is."

 

" _Everyone else_ has no idea what it is to love something that destroys you."

 

Kevin's not sure that's true, but it's not what's important. What's important is:

 

"Do you?"

 

Andrew cuts him a look and holds the bottle out instead of answering.

 

Yeah. That's about what Kevin thought.

 

He takes the bottle from Andrew and draws another long pull from it. The fuzziness that had dissipated under Neil's supervision begins to settle back in, and he's grateful for it. He just wants to hide, for a little while— from the rest of the team, from the reality of Riko's death and what it will mean, from the ridiculous stupidity of confessing all of that to Neil, who plainly still didn't understand a word of what he'd said.

 

They drink in companionable silence until the bottle is almost empty, and Andrew announces that he's going for a cigarette.

 

He pauses at the door to the balcony, face tilted just enough that Kevin can see his profile, but not meet his eyes.

 

"I do not expect you to be glad that he is dead. I understand why you are not. But if I hear you claim him as your responsibility ever again, I'll kill you. He was not, and is not. You deserve better."

 

The _I'll kill you_ part is probably — _probably_ — an exaggeration, but the rest? Andrew doesn't lie, and he doesn't dispense idle flattery, either. He would only say something like that because he meant it, because he thought it was true. Kevin has to slide his gaze away and down to the almost empty bottle as he sets it on the table.

 

"Yeah," he says slowly, trying to speak around the emotion clogging his throat. "Okay."

 

Andrew nods once before he disappears outside, leaving Kevin alone with only his thoughts for company. It's still not a comfortable situation for him, and maybe it never will be, but for the first time since he heard the words _Riko is dead_ , his chest doesn't hurt with every breath he takes.


	2. june

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Kevin/Thea breakup I warned about previously. Mainly the chapter focuses on Kevin's emotional state, and the relationship activities are not described in any detail.

* * *

******june**

 

* * *

 

 

In retrospect, Kevin should have seen the disaster coming long before it unfolded, messily and uglily, in the cousins' living room on the Friday of the first long weekend they've had in a while.

 

When he'd mentioned to Thea that he had some time off, she'd been surprised to find it overlapped with some downtime of her own, and they'd agreed to spend it together. The plan was for her to fly into Columbia and collect him from the cousins' house, then spend a few days touring some sites and museums, maybe go to the Philharmonic... The real goal was to have some proper alone time to rekindle their relationship; what they did otherwise was immaterial (considering it was the off season, and there were no games to attend).

 

It is something that Kevin had hoped to do after their game against Edgar Allen, but given the events that followed, he was in no fit state to do anything with anyone that weekend. He spent most of it huddled, near-catatonic, in his father's hotel room. The intervening month did little to stop him thinking about it, but Kevin had become good at pushing down his distress, so at least outwardly he was more or less back to normal.

 

Thea was not especially interested in meeting his teammates, but their dinner reservation wasn't until nine, and her flight got in at five, so it made sense —or it seemed to make sense— to invite her in for a drink before they left.

 

The conversation was polite but strained for exactly twelve minutes before the bomb went off. They'd been discussing their plans for the summer, kicking about the possibility of a roadtrip, when—

 

"The Court are holding an event to honour Riko on the weekend of the fifteenth," Thea says, turning her attention to Kevin. "Obviously you'll have to be at Edgar Allen for that, but perhaps you can join them afterwards?"

 

It was pure coincidence that Kevin happened to be looking at Neil when she said it, so he caught the full impact of the words on his scarred face: the blood drained from it in a rush, leaving him snow white apart from two spots high on his cheekbones beneath the fading cuts and livid burn marks.

 

" _What_?"

 

Thea stares at him like he's asked a very stupid question.

 

"Riko Moriyama was one of the greatest players the game has ever seen, and his death was a great loss to us all. Of course the Court are going to honour him; it's only appropriate."

 

"Kevin's not going." Neil says it like it's already decided, like it's a done deal, even before he looks at Kevin. "You're not," he says firmly, and then his brow creases a little as he hesitates before asking: "Do you want to?"

 

Thea answers for him.

 

"It does not matter whether or not he _wants_ to. He _has_ to. It would be unseemly otherwise."

 

Neil gapes at her.

 

" _Unseemly_?"

 

Thea's gaze sweeps over him, disapproving and dismissing all at once, then turns her attention back to Kevin.

 

"I should have known better than to bring this up in mixed company. We can talk about it later."

 

"There is nothing to talk about," Neil snaps, and Nicky looks uneasy.

 

"Guys, maybe we should all just—"

 

He cuts off as Andrew shakes his head at him, not that it matters: neither Neil nor Thea have any intentions of backing down.

 

"You can't seriously expect him to go to a ceremony honouring Riko. _Riko_ , the psychopath who broke his hand because Kevin had the nerve to be a better player than he was?"

 

"Do not speak about what you do not understand," Thea says evenly, though there is an edge to her voice, and the beginnings of annoyance in her eyes. "You were never a Raven, so your opinion on this matter is uninformed and thus unimportant, but as you seem determined to place yourself in this discussion regardless, I will explain to you: Riko may have gone too far, but he is _dead_ , and Kevin is playing again. Everything else is irrelevant."

 

"Irrelevant?!" Neil gapes at her for a second before turning to Kevin, furious. "Are you hearing this? It's _irrelevant_? Irrelevant that you spent weeks wondering if you'd ever be able to play again— that you spent years dealing with his bullshit, his abuse, his _torture_?" There is nothing but fire in his eyes as he turns his attention back to Thea, and Kevin can't take his gaze off him. "Speaking of which: where were _you_ when all this was happening? Where were you after he had to run out of Evermore in the middle of the night? You were supposed to be his girlfriend. You didn't see this coming, you didn't think maybe it was unacceptable that Riko was running him into the ground, treating him like he was a pet— you didn't notice that he had to play below his abilities for the sake of that freak's ego?"

 

"I was the first to notice," Thea says hotly, and Kevin realises instantly that it was a mistake.

 

"You _knew_." The shock in Neil's expression soon turns to horror, his voice rising with it. "You knew he was _holding himself back_ , and you thought that was okay?"

 

To Neil —to Thea, to Kevin— that was in some ways worse than the other tortures he'd visited on Kevin: for anyone who loved Exy, to make someone cripple their own game should have been an unforgivable sin. 

 

"I will not explain myself to a child who cannot even control his temper," Thea says simply, and places her glass on the sideboard. Her gaze flicks briefly to Nicky, standing frozen with horror by the door. "Thank you for the drink," she says, then inclines her head towards Kevin. "I think we should go, don't you?"

 

Kevin glances at Neil, who still looks mutinous, and then to Andrew, who meets his gaze with cool eyes, plainly waiting for his answer.

 

"Yes," Kevin manages, keenly aware it's the first thing he's said since this debacle began spinning out of control. "I'll see you guys back at school," he adds, then follows Thea out the door.

 

"I can't fucking believe—" he hears Neil huff from the kitchen, though the rest of the conversation is lost as the door closes behind them.

 

"That child—" Thea starts, but Kevin holds up a hand.

 

"I really don't want to talk about it," he says, heading for the car. "I'm serious, Thea. Neil's mouth is a menace, but his heart is in the right place. He's just looking out for me."

 

Thea looks like she might say more for a moment before she purses her lips and gets in the car.

 

Kevin tries to put the whole thing out of his mind for the rest of the weekend, but it keeps coming back to him: the intensity of Neil's fury and how outraged he had been on Kevin's behalf, the way Andrew hadn't tried to speak for him a single time and had only waited for Kevin's own answers, and how Thea had just assumed he would go to Riko's memorial and how she had written off everything had happened to him as irrelevant.

 

It burns him to think about it, to remember how she'd looked when she was saying it— to weigh the truth of the memory, to know that it wasn't just a front she was putting up for Neil because he was an outsider. It is what she absolutely believes: as long as Kevin is playing again, no harm, no foul, right? It's not that this is new information for Kevin, exactly, but knowing and seeing are two entirely different things. He's wounded by it, and bothered further by the fact that things like this can still hurt him.

 

That means he still cares for her, he thinks. But what kind of care is it? The physical attraction between them hasn't faded, nor his respect for her skill and her intelligence, but he is suddenly acutely aware of what he _doesn't_ feel: any sense of comfort, of safety, of protection.

 

He'd forgotten those things existed, before Andrew, before Neil, before his father, and before PSU. At Evermore, he hadn't known the value of them; the prospect that they would be things he would seek from a relationship wouldn't even have been laughable, it would have been inconceivable. He was a Raven, and he needed no-one's protection.

 

Now he is a Fox, and he has no idea what he needs.

 

...But. He is slowly beginning to realise that what he needs might be more than this: more than low-burning heat and familiarity, more than shared history and shared dreams, more than the nagging feeling that there are things that he can never say, and things which would never be understood.

 

Neil had come on too strong; he didn't understand that as a Raven herself, there were lines that Thea could no more cross than Kevin could for the sake of her own well-being, that _everyone_ in the Nest carried their own burdens from their time there, but with some of it, he had a point.

 

It isn't... Irrelevant. What had happened to him wasn't his fault, and it isn't something that can be so easily swept aside. He is still learning who he will be outside of Riko's influence, but he thinks he might not want to be someone who can write off everything that happened, who can live with the suggestion that any of it was... Okay. More importantly, he thinks perhaps he thinks he might be okay with that change in perspective.

 

It's a thought that preys on his mind constantly. He's quiet through the days they spend together, sleeps little through the nights, and by Sunday it's impossible not to notice the mounting tension between them.

 

They're in the park when it happens, drinking over-priced coffee they'd opted to take on foot rather than in the museum where they'd spent the morning.

 

"This isn't working, is it?"

 

Thea's voice is as soft as Kevin has ever heard it, but when he turns to look at her, her gaze is on the water rather than on him. Again, he's at a loss for what to say, so it's a great surprise when he hears himself answer.

 

"No, I don't think it is."

 

"Too much time, maybe," Thea muses quietly, "Or too much water under the bridge." There's no anger in her voice, but when she turns to Kevin, her gaze is shrewd. "Or something else. Some _one_ else."

 

"I've never—" Kevin starts, but she simply shakes her head.

 

"That wasn't an accusation. It was a suggestion."

 

Kevin doesn't understand, so he only waits for more.

 

"The child is in love with you, you know," she says, and it feels like the world has fallen out from underneath Kevin's feet— like the grass and dirt and stones have just melted into nothingness, and Kevin is falling, falling, falling. He barely hears the rest: "Oh, you _didn't_ know. Oh, Kevin." She sounds more exasperated than anything else, and that's what brings him back to reality. "I suspected it when I watched that interview with Riko, though I took it for simple hero-worship then: the boy you'd plucked from obscurity, defending your honour in return. But it's been a year, and I think by now, the shine would be off the apple. It's nothing as innocent as hero-worship, and nothing as bland as gratitude."

 

He's tempted to point out that it was never hero-worship, that Neil wasn't at Palmetto for five minutes before he was criticising Kevin, but it would be beside the point.

 

"He's—" Kevin starts, and stops when he doesn't know how to finish that thought in a way that doesn't out Neil and Andrew.

 

"With the other midget?" Thea scoffs. "Yes, I'm aware; it's plain from the way they look at one another. Since when has that stopped anyone from wanting someone else? Besides, although you might have disconnected your number, I heard the rumours from those still on the team, from the games and the banquets. From what I heard, you and your guard dog were joined at the hip."

 

"Things are different now," Kevin says quietly, though he doesn't offer any more. How can he explain that he had a shot with Andrew, but that door closed because he was too afraid to act on it? How can he explain that he couldn't let himself have feelings for Neil when he'd thought he was going to lose him anyway?

 

"They're not so different that they won't defend you, or so different that they leave you alone. How many times have we spoken where one or both of them wasn't within arm's reach of you?"

 

Kevin has no answer for that; there have been very few times, and they both know it.

 

"If you want him, then do something about it."

 

"Do what?" he says, because it's easier than asking _which him_ , but it's not any better received; the look Thea cuts him could sour milk.

 

"You're asking me for advice on how to make a move on someone else _while we are breaking up_?"

 

...Well. When it's put that way, he figures she has kind of a point.

 

"Sorry," he mumbles, and Thea rolls her eyes.

 

"You're no better than when I left you two years ago," she sighs. "You are a disaster, Kevin Day."

 

"I've heard that before, I think," he says, though he's pretty sure the word Andrew used was _despicable_.

 

Though ultimately, they amount to the same thing, don't they?

 

They part as friends. Once the bubble has been burst, the tension dissipates— they go back to being able to talk about normal things, like the Foxes' chances for next year, the Sirens' new offensive line-up, their best and worst picks for Court for next year, last year's Pro season... By the time Thea pulls up outside Fox Tower, things are not entirely fixed between them, but they are certainly _better_ : they know where they stand now, and it's a position of shared understanding and being able, finally, to draw a line under this part of their lives.

 

He'd felt relieved when Thea had graduated, not because he no longer wanted her companionship, but because the stress of trying to keep everything hidden was too much, and the twin threats of Riko the Master too great. For months after she left, he'd held onto the hope that they could have something in the future, but after he fled Edgar Allen, his priorities had turned more to things like _Staying alive_ and _Not getting my father killed_... And, to his eternal shame, maybe also things like _Andrew_ , and other things like _Neil_.

 

He knows now how foolish that was— But perhaps not quite as foolish as trying to rekindle his relationship with Thea. He is no longer the boy he'd been at Evermore who had been impressed by her talent, attracted to her passion, and charmed by her beauty.Yes, he's still working on discovering exactly who he is these days —a Fox, Wymack's son, someone who has seen life at the bottom of the pile as well as at the top— but he knows now he's no longer someone able to write off Riko's behaviour as acceptable, someone who looks at the Nest and sees only their flawless game and not their flawed psychology.

 

He's no longer the person she was waiting for.

 

Maybe trying again wasn't such a stupid idea, he muses— If they hadn't, how would they know they were no longer a good fit? At least now they can cut the cord and walk away for real: not entirely, no, because if there's any justice in the world, they'll be teammates again soon, for Court. Besides that, he'll always respect her, and he will always be grateful to her for being the first person to truly recognise the scope of his talent, but whatever love there'd been between them is gone— and at least now, neither of them have to wonder about it.

 

He only wishes he'd been able to get that much closure with Riko.

 

Still, he's surprised by how _light_ he feels as he jogs the stairs up to their room, already planning how he's going to spend the evening since he'll be stuck here by himself. To his great surprise, however, the room's not empty: Neil's there, working alone at his desk.

 

"I didn't expect you to be back tonight. Where's Andrew?"

 

Neil lifts his head from the book in front of him and gives Kevin a slight once-over before his attention returns to his homework.

 

"With Bee," is all Neil says. It's not a complete surprise, because with the addition of Aaron to his weekly sessions, Andrew hasn't had a lot of time with her alone lately, but late in the evening on a Sunday...? Kevin shrugs it off; what Bee and Andrew do is their own business, and he's never been particularly comfortable with the therapist, finding Abby's medical knowledge and straight-forward, motherly manner more comforting. He drops his bag off at his closet and makes his way over to his own desk to catch up on some last minute homework.

 

"I didn't expect you back, either," Neil says, though something about his expression gives Kevin the distinct impression that he's not telling the truth. "How was your weekend?"

 

"It was fine," Kevin says deliberately, measuredly, carefully avoiding Neil's stare which he knows falls on him as soon as he says the word. He doesn't so much as look in Neil's direction as he sets up his computer and tugs on his headphones. After a while he can feel Neil backing off and retreating into his own work, but he continues to send Kevin glances for the remainder of the evening.

 

Andrew is less subtle.

 

"You broke up," is all he says to Kevin as he slides into the seat next to him during their one shared class, Banned Books in British Literature (Kevin had taken it because it met his English requirement and had a vaguely historical bent; Andrew, because it was the least boring-sounding course on offer). Kevin blinks around at him in surprise, hands stilling on the keyboard of his laptop.

 

"I don't recall saying that," Kevin says slowly, but Andrew flicks his fingers dismissively.

 

"You did not."

 

"So this is you guessing?"

 

"No," Andrew says, and then, off Kevin's look, simply adds, " _Grapevine_."

 

"I didn't realise we had a trans-team grapevine."

 

Andrew turns his attention to the professor walking into the class and lifts one shoulder in a casual shrug.

 

"Thea told someone who told someone else who told Jean who told Renee who told Matt who told Neil."

 

Kevin purses his lips to suppress a groan. Terrific. So they _do_ have a trans-team grapevine. Clearly, it's the end of an era, because back in the day, Raven gossip was kept to the Ravens.

 

Then again— he _had_ said he wasn't a Raven anymore, hadn't he?

 

He doesn't know what to tell Andrew, so he says nothing. Andrew seems content to let the matter drop, much to Kevin's relief, and he's just about beginning to relax when Andrew leans into his space to stage-whisper, "She says she dumped you."

 

"That wasn't—" Kevin starts hotly, then pulls himself up when several people turn to stare. "Fine. She dumped me."

 

Andrew narrows his eyes, gold gaze boring through him, but Kevin doesn't quail under it. Thea _had_ been the one to first say it wasn't working, and while it had been Kevin's decision as much as hers, if she wants to tell people she was the one to end things... He's all right with that.

 

Andrew continues to study him a moment longer, gaze sweeping over the length of his face before he turns away and opens his textbook with a heavy thump.

 

He spends the remainder of the class ignoring Kevin, and though Kevin is fairly convinced there's something he's missing, he can't entirely figure out what that might be.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Thea and Riko content in this story draws heavily from the Extras. The Thea references come from [here](http://korakos.tumblr.com/post/134761539142/how-did-thea-and-kevin-meet-when-did-kevin-come) and [here](http://korakos.tumblr.com/post/135556697007/i-think-it-was-mentioned-that-theodora-wears-a); the Riko parts from [here](http://korakos.tumblr.com/post/127814484117/i-dont-know-if-im-the-only-one-interested-but-i), [here](http://korakos.tumblr.com/post/127448987312/so-what-exactly-were-kevin-and-rikos-feelings), [here](http://korakos.tumblr.com/post/134225584247/ok-can-you-tell-us-a-bit-about-kevin-and-rikos), and [here](http://korakos.tumblr.com/post/132962477987/cant-remember-if-its-already-been-answered-but). I've taken some liberties with the Riko/Kevin ship to facilitate Kevin's eventual relationship with Andrew and Neil, but otherwise both Thea's perspective and Riko's awfulness are Extras-canon.
> 
> For the record— Thea will be getting her own development over the course of the series once she too finds somebody to help her (the same way Neil and Andrew are helping Kevin) to realise that neither Riko's behaviour nor the Ravens' attitude to it were at all okay. I may not ship Kevin/Thea, but I do want to do right by all the characters in this series. (...Except Riko. I'm less forgiving than Kevin, I'm afraid.)
> 
> Come talk to me on Tumblr [@onlycareaboutexy](http://onlycareaboutexy.tumblr.com) about Kevin and/or Kandreil!


	3. july

* * *

 

 ******july**

 

* * *

 

 

Sometimes Kevin wonders if there will ever again be a time in his life where things don't just seem to keep piling on. Summer classes and finals finish just a week before Aaron's trial is scheduled to start, leaving very little breathing room. Perhaps it's better that way, though; without schoolwork to distract them, the tension begins to mount steadily— Between Aaron and Andrew, between Aaron and Neil... Even Andrew and Neil seem slightly off with one another. Nicky tries to keep the peace like he always does, and Kevin tries to stay out of it like he always does, but it's difficult to do once they have to move out of their dorms for the break.

 

This year, Kevin isn't quite so much a target, so they don't have to spend the entire summer at Abby's, but Columbia feels a little haunted this close to the trial, and anyway: here, at least, they have the court to distract themselves. Only Kevin and Neil are actually excited about summer practice without the rest of the team, but even Aaron and Nicky pitch in without complaint: it gives them somewhere to go and something to do for a couple of hours every day, and right now, distraction is a valuable commodity.

 

The trial is scheduled to start on Monday, meaning Sunday night is the last day they have to practice as a unit for a while, so Kevin runs them as hard as he can, and by the time they get back to Abby's house, he's almost asleep on his feet. Unlike the others, he goes upstairs immediately and flops onto the cot in the room he shares with Aaron and Nicky— it's not a comfortable arrangement, but it beats staying at his father's apartment alone.

 

Someone follows him in a few minutes later; he opens his eyes just enough to catch a flash of blond hair, which is fine with him: Aaron isn't too likely to bother him, so it's a surprise when someone kicks his bed.

 

"Fuck off, Aaron; I'm trying to sleep," he mumbles, then yelps when he feels fingers in his hair, tugging his head off the pillow.

 

Only one person he knows considers that an acceptable wake-up call, and it's not Aaron. He cracks one eye open to find Andrew looking down at him, unimpressed.

 

"I want you to stay here."

 

"Great, because I wasn't planning on moving for at least ten hours."

 

"Not now," Andrew says slowly, as if speaking to a very small child. His fingers slide out of Kevin's hair. "Tomorrow."

 

It takes a second for that to sink in, and then he sits up quickly.

 

"Wait, what?"

 

"Tomorrow," Andrew repeats. "You are not going."

 

They hadn't discussed it before now, but Kevin had just assumed— He goes where Andrew goes, and vice versa. That's how it's been since he came to PSU: until Easthaven, they'd barely been apart, and since he came back, things had gone back to normal. That Andrew wouldn't want him there is... Unthinkable.

 

"Why?"

 

He doesn't mean for the word to sound quite as lost as it ends up coming out, but in his surprise, he hadn't entirely had time to curtail himself. Andrew's gaze remains as blank as ever as he sits on the bed at Kevin's side, just enough distance between them that they're not touching anywhere.

 

"You recall Aaron told the team they were not welcome."

 

"But, that's," Kevin starts, then pauses while he tries to get his thoughts in order. "That's the team."

 

"That no longer applies to you? Have you told Coach yet? It seems a little short notice to leave him in the lurch, and no doubt Neil will—"

 

"Andrew. I am not just _the team_."

 

Whenever Andrew or Nicky or Aaron spoke about _the team_ , they meant the other half: the upperclassmen, not Andrew's group. If Aaron was including Kevin when he said _the team_ , it meant he no longer counted as the latter. The thought of that spikes panic all the way through his nerves: he can feel it prickling at his shoulders and down his thighs, twisting his stomach and banding tightly across his ribs. He has lost so much already: his position with the Ravens, Riko, Thea, the hope of anything in his future with with Andrew or Neil... If he loses Andrew entirely now, he will have almost nothing, and what will he do then?

 

Maybe the panic shows on his face, or maybe Andrew just realises it's a hot-button issue for him, because he sighs.

 

"What you are is someone who requires an anchor."

 

That's not new information, so Kevin frowns.

 

"And?"

 

"And I cannot be that for you if I myself am adrift."

 

Kevin just blinks at him for a minute, because none of that makes any sense.

 

"Andrew..."

 

Andrew's gaze slides away then, fixing on the dresser on other side of the room.

 

"I do not want to talk about any of this. I do not want anyone to know any of this. I would have gone to my grave without breathing a word of this, do you understand? And now it is a choice between spilling every black truth or watching as they put Aaron behind bars for the simple act of exterminating vermin."

 

His fingers twitch towards his pocket, and it looks very much to Kevin like he'd like a cigarette.

 

(Or a knife.)

 

"Nicky is insisting he come because it is his _duty_. Neil—" He waves a hand. "You of all people know how stubborn he can be." He turns his attention back to Kevin, finally, and his gaze is full of fire. "You, I thought, might have sense."

 

"I do," Kevin says quietly, struck with the strange urge to curl his hand around Andrew's neck, though he knows he would probably lose the hand he did it with. "I still want to be there— Andrew, do you think it would change anything for me? That it would change how I see you?"

 

Andrew says nothing, but he looks away again, the dullness creeping back into his eyes.

 

"I already know," Kevin continues, desperate. "Maybe not everything, maybe not the details, but they won't make a damn bit of difference: you're still the strongest person I know. Whatever they say, whatever _you_ say, that won't change. There are going to be dozens of strangers there; we can't prevent that. All we can do is try to balance that out with people who are there for you."

 

Andrew looks back at him, gaze narrowed.

 

"I do not need you there."

 

"I know you don't." Kevin sighs, and runs a hand through his hair. If he'd thought he felt tired when he came in, it's worse now: he feels like he could lie down and sleep for a hundred years or more. "It's not about about need; it's about knowing that you're not alone."

 

"I am not alone. I have Neil."

 

Kevin flinches, something that seems to give Andrew pause for a second— which is a second longer than it ever has before, but then his expression smooths back out into indifference again, and Kevin has to continue.

 

"I know that, too," he says, and he's proud of how even he manages to keep his voice. "It's not about that, and it's not about duty, either, Andrew—" He cuts himself off, frustrated by the conversation, and pushes off from the bed to go stand by the window. The change in geography doesn't help; he casts around for an explanation, but to his horror, the only thing he can come up with is the truth: "It's about the fact that you were the first person in my life who ever made me feel safe."

 

Whatever Andrew was expecting, it wasn't that. His brows raise just a fraction, and at any other time Kevin might feel proud of getting a reaction out of him, but right now all he feels is... Well. It doesn't matter.

 

"I came to PSU because my father was here, but I stayed for you. When the Ravens changed districts, when Riko came calling, when I was afraid, you were the one who kept me on track. And I know you're not afraid, and I know I'm not all you have, and I know it isn't the same, but I still want to be there for you, because you're my—"

 

But he doesn't know how to finish that sentence, either.

 

Unlike last time, Andrew isn't going to let him get away with it.

 

"I am your what, Kevin?"

 

It feels like the most dangerous question Kevin has been asked in years. He tries to deflect, but he was trained to be a striker, not a backliner, and he knows it's a weak effort even before the words leave his lips.

 

"What do you want me to say, Andrew?"

 

"You know I want nothing."

 

"No, I know that's bullshit," Kevin says, before he can help himself, and there it is again: that fire in his eyes as Andrew crosses the room and steps right up into his space, staring him down like he can pin Kevin in place with the weight of his gaze alone.

 

Maybe he can.

 

"If you presume to know what I want, then answer the question."

 

"Andrew—" He still can't come up with an answer, and Andrew _looking_ at him like that doesn't help. "There are no words for what you are to me. You're more than a friend, more than a teammate, more than family. You're—" But he was right the first time, there are no words... Not in English, at least, but his memory casts back to something he'd read in a book Jean had given him once. The book, like their friendship, had been lost along the way, but the phrase had stayed with him over the years. " _Une Douleur Exquise_ ," he says finally, and Andrew's mouth immediately thins.

 

"Regardless of anything else, you very definitely know I do not speak French."

 

"I do," Kevin says simply, and steps neatly around him, pausing halfway to the door. "But you asked me to tell you, and I did. It's not my fault if you don't understand it."

 

Which— Kind of a cop-out, he knows, but he is so tired of holding back, of lying, of keeping so much to himself —and Andrew is so determined and demanding, so covetous of the truth— that Kevin _needed_ to tell him, to release the feelings he's been trying to squash for over a year.

 

It doesn't feel as good as he thought it would, and he can taste bile at the back of his throat, as bitter and acidic as the envy in his heart.

 

"I want to be there for you," he says softly, and somehow it's easier to say the words with his back still to Andrew, when he doesn't have to face his gaze or his judgment. "For you, and for Neil. He will need some support, though he's as resistant as you to accepting it, and we both know Nicky won't be capable. I'll help if you will let me."

 

He feels Andrew behind him a moment later, and he's half-prepared for the chill of a blade against his skin, but instead there's only the heat of Andrew's hand, knotting into his shirt at the small of his back.

 

"I hate you." Andrew's voice is quiet, but Kevin hears him all the same. Gooseflesh breaks out across his back, though he doesn't know whether it's from the touch, or from the words alone.

 

"That's neither a no, nor a valid reason to give me one."

 

There's a moment of silence then, and Kevin is tempted to turn around to study Andrew, to see if he could descry anything from his expression or his posture, but seeing Andrew would mean Andrew seeing him, and he's not ready for that yet.

 

"Come, then," Andrew breathes, so softly that for a minute Kevin's not sure if he imagined it or not. "But you will have to sit in the back with Neil and Nicky on the drive."

 

"I can live with that."

 

They stay where they are for another moment, then Andrew drops his hand and the spell is broken.

 

Walking away without looking back is one of the hardest things Kevin has ever done. He only manages by keeping his gaze firmly forward, though he can feel Andrew's burning a hole though his back until he steps out into the hall.

 

He makes it all the way to the bathroom before his legs give out; once he's shut the door, he slides down the length of it and puts his head between his knees, breath coming in tiny, rapid puffs he tries to keep quiet so as not to attract attention from any of the others. He's not sure if what just happened is the beginning of the end —of the final link severed between Andrew and himself—or a sign of some kind of progress, a new hope that they can still have some kind of relationship outside the court even though Kevin no longer needs his protection.

 

It's a long time before he can finally pry himself off the floor, and when he goes downstairs, he finds only Neil, brooding over a cup of tea. 

 

"You talked to Andrew?"

 

Kevin really doesn't want to get into this now, so he only shrugs, moving to the kettle to heat the water again.

 

"I told him you wouldn't be happy with—"

 

"I'm coming," Kevin says simply, turning his back so he doesn't have to see Neil's surprise. He ends up filling his mug with only half-boiled water, but it'll do to settle his disturbed stomach. "I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

 

"But—"

 

"Neil," Kevin snaps, turning so quickly he almost sloshes water over the rim of the mug. "We talked. He said I could come. I want to be there for him. I'm going. No discussion required."

 

Neil watches him for a long moment, blue eyes shrewd and thoughtful. 

 

"All right," he says, at last, though Kevin has the distinct feeling that there's more he isn't saying. He waits for a moment, but that seems to be all Neil's prepared to voice, and Kevin doesn't have the time or the energy to try to pry more out of him now. He just wants to sleep, but it's a long time coming even after he finally gets settled in bed, too many thoughts about the week ahead running through his mind.

 

To none of his surprise, the trial is every bit as awful as he might have imagined.

 

Andrew is stone-faced throughout, scornful of the lawyer's suggestion that he "show some humanity", words which cause Neil to very nearly swing for him, leaving Kevin to snag a hand in the back of his belt and haul him away until he'd calmed down. On the stand, Andrew reels off the words —dates, times, details— with perfect fluency, but void of any personal inflection, depth, or distress. The jury are unimpressed, until their counsel produces an expert witness to explain the psychological effects oftrauma. After that, their eyes soften... Though they still seek Andrew out at every opportunity, and then it's Kevin who feels like punching someone.

 

Aaron is sick twice, the second time right there in the courtroom. It's the only time Andrew looks anything other than bored, seeming stricken that his words —the revelation that Drake had been planning to target Aaron next— had caused such an effect. Kevin wonders if he knows Aaron is disturbed not by the prospect of Drake attacking him, but by the fact that Andrew endured so much for him. Andrew being Andrew, he probably doesn't, and Kevin wonders how long he should wait before he points that out. Weeks, probably. Years, maybe.

 

Nicky cries, and cries, and cries. In the courtroom, at the shit-hole diner they retire to for lunch where nobody eats anything or says anything, in the car on the ride there, and on the way home, in their room in the evenings on the phone to Erik when Aaron and Kevin decamp to the living room to give him space. He says the words _If I'd known_ at least fifty times, until Kevin thinks he'll scream if he hears them one more time, because this isn't Nicky's fault, it isn't Aaron's fault, it isn't Andrew's fault, it's Drake's and Riko's and both of them are dead. If _he'd_ known. If _he'd_ known, there'd have been nothing he could do about it.

 

Neil— Neil doesn't get sick, and he doesn't cry. After his initial outburst with the lawyer, he doesn't scream, or shout, either: he just stays at Andrew's side whenever he can, and when he can't, he sits rigid in the gallery, tense from head to toe. It hurts Kevin to look at him, and on the second day, when Andrew is on the witness stand and being cross-examined, Neil clutches his knees until his knuckles turn white. Kevin doesn't know he's doing it until after it's happened, until his hand moves over Neil's and tugs itinto his own, palm flat against Neil's below the screen where nobody can see: skin to skin, scars to scars. Neil's head snaps up so fast Kevin's briefly concerned for his neck, and his eyes are wide and shocked.

 

It's the first time he's taken his gaze off Andrew since he sat in the seat, and Kevin considers that a positive. The intensity of his stare had looked painful, and Andrew had resolutely refused to even glance in their direction once since the ordeal began. Neil looks, briefly, like he might be about to ask a question, but Kevin only squeezes his hand and shakes his head, turning back to look at Andrew. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Neil stare a moment more before he turns his own head back in Andrew's direction, his gaze following a second later.

 

He doesn't let go of Kevin's hand, and slowly, very slowly, the tension bleeds out of him. He's still visibly distressed, but he no longer looks like he's going to shake apart at any minute. For the first time all day, Neil looks like he can take breaths without his lungs being lacerated from the inside, and the roaring in Kevin's head quietens a little at the sight. He holds onto Kevin in a death grip until the judge calls an end to the day, standing up as soon as Andrew's released only to realise he's still holding on, looking down at Kevin with that confused expression on his face before he finally lets go. He shakes out his hand —Kevin's is worse for wear, too— and opens his mouth to say something, but Kevin just pushes at his hip and says _Go_ , then Neil nods and disappears into the dispersing crowd to find Andrew.

 

He catches Nicky watching him, eyes red-rimmed and raw, and folds his arms over his chest.

 

"What?" he says, and Nicky shakes his head.

 

"Nothing." He sniffles, and produces his umpteenth tissue to swipe at his nose. "I wasn't thinking about how hard this is for him. He loves Andrew, you know? I guess I need to pull it together for him while we're here."

 

Kevin rolls his eyes.

 

"Give yourself yourself a break. You're all struggling with this."

 

"And you?" Nicky asks, perhaps not as blind as he currently looks with his bleary eyes. Kevin shrugs one shoulder and looks down at the polished tips of his shoes, now surrounded by wads of shredded tissue.

 

"I'm all right. He's not my cousin, or my brother, or my boyfriend."

 

"But he's your rock," Nicky says, and Kevin turns his gaze upwards, seeking out Andrew and Neil in the crowd: they're standing close together, Neil looking relieved to be close to him again, and Andrew looking as stoic as ever, like he hadn't just spent the day dredging up all the horrors of his past.

 

"Yes," Kevin says firmly, catching Nicky's gaze and holding it. "He is."

 

Nicky says nothing for a long time, then hauls himself out of his seat to go collect Aaron.

 

He pats Kevin's shoulder on the way out, and his hand lingers for a moment before he lets go.

 

Though all of it, Drake's parents sit quietly and watch, refusing to look at Andrew or at Aaron, refusing to acknowledge the truth of the monster they'd made. Once, the mother looks to where Neil and Kevin are sitting, and the smile Neil gives her turns Kevin's insides to water. He elbows Neil sharply, wanting that expression off his face before Andrew sees it, no matter who it's turned on. He looks at Kevin, startled back to reality, and the smile melts into something much closer to horror.

 

This time it's Neil who takes Kevin's hand, and Kevin who holds on like Neil might be swept away if he lets go.

 

Kevin knows better than to mention his former foster parents to Andrew, and if Neil does, they don't speak of it. They just sit together in silence with their hands entwined: Hansel and Gretel in the witch's house, all too aware of the crackling of the fire and the bubble of pot.

 

But Aaron is cleared, of course. It takes four days of hell and the testimony of Andrew, Aaron, Higgins, and a variety of doctors and other experts before the jury are allowed to consider the evidence, and just seventeen minutes for them to reach a unanimous verdict of justifiable homicide on contemplation of it.

 

It's not quite a record, but it's close.

 

Bee and Katelyn are waiting for them after the verdict; Bee draws Andrew away to decompress, and Aaron and Katelyn disappear almost immediately— he looks relieved to be able to spend time with someone who hasn't just heard the finer points of how he caved in a man's skull, or about the abuse his brother suffered. Andrew looks... Well, Andrew doesn't look any different to how he usually does, but the fact that he's prepared to leave Neil to go with Bee speaks volumes.

 

After their conversation on the second day, Nicky had done a little better on being strong, but as soon as the twins are out of sight, his shoulders sag and his head droops, and he all but asks for permission to call Erik. Kevin waves him away and says they'll meet him at the car in an hour. He considers suggesting food, but he's not hungry, and Neil doesn't look like he's capable of sitting still for six minutes, let alone sixty. Kevin is pretty sure he'd run himself to exhaustion if it were remotely possible right now.

 

Unfortunately for him, it isn't.

 

"I don't think those shoes are made for running," he says slowly, nodding at Neil's dress shoes. They're the same ones he wears to the banquets— and, Kevin is pretty sure, the only ones he owns that aren't running shoes.

 

Neil blinks twice before his brain catches up with his ears, and the corner of his mouth twitches before it falls flat again, the first sign of a smile —a _normal_ smile— that Kevin has seen for a week.

 

"No," he agrees. "Guess not."

 

"Walk?" Kevin suggests, and Neil nods, falling into step at his side. They lap the block twice, then begin to spiral outwards so they don't end up stranded on the other side of the city and needing an hour or more to get back. They don't talk, but it feels like companionable silence as the minutes tick by and they get some distance from the courthouse and everything that had happened there.

 

After a little while, there's nothing but their matched step and the sounds of the city around them, and Kevin feels himself beginning to settle inside.

 

"Thank you."

 

They're still six blocks out from the car when Neil says it, startling Kevin enough that he almost stumbles.

 

"Neil, you don't have to—"

 

"No, you didn't have to. So thank you."

 

"I did have to," Kevin says, frowning. "Jesus, you're worse than Andrew. Do you actually think that I would want— That I'd want to let you go through that alone? I couldn't protect Andrew from this, but at least I could be there for you and let him know that we're all with him."

 

"Nobody could have protected Andrew," Neil points out.

 

"Maybe," Kevin says quietly, but the guilt he feels is thick in his voice, and Neil pulls up short, catching his arm.

 

"Kevin. What do you mean, _maybe_?" His brow furrows, mouth thinning out. "You know something, don't you?"

 

"I didn't know," Kevin says slowly, like he could stop the words and the questioning if he only held on tightly enough to the answers so that they wouldn't slither out of him like a fish on the end of Neil's line.Neil is nothing if not tenacious, however; his grip on Kevin's arm is just as tight as it had been on his hand, though it feels a whole lot different now.

 

" _What_ did you not know? And more importantly, what _did_ you know?"

 

"I didn't _know_ anything," Kevin repeats, steadier now. "But— I suspected. Andrew, the way he is, the way he reacts to things... I told you, we researched him before we made him an offer to join the Ravens. There was nothing conclusive, but there were red flags in his history. So many foster homes, and records of hospital admissions... I knew there was something. I didn't know what, then, but after I came to PSU, I began to suspect that it was something like this."

 

Neil stares at him, expression carefully blank.

 

"You never said anything."

 

" _He_ never said anything. So I didn't either." He swallows, looking away, shame rising up his throat in a tsunami of bile and guilt. "But maybe I should have realised that Riko would find out for sure, and then find a way to turn it on him. I just didn't think— He could have taken Andrew out of the season, out of the team. I didn't think he'd risk losing the chance to humiliate us in public. I didn't think the Master would let him."

 

Neil's expression has already turned to horror, so Kevin figures he might as well tell him the worst, final piece.

 

"I got him to back off Andrew once. If I'd known he was coming at him this time, maybe I could have gotten him to back off again."

 

Neil frowns, and then the penny drops.

 

"That's what you meant before— On Kathy's show. When Riko said he'd offered you Andrew... What exactly did he offer you, Kevin?"

 

"Andrew," Kevin says, because it's obvious, isn't it? "He said it was time I had a pet of my own, like he had Jean. That I'd _earned_ it. He said we could find a way to bring him to heel, to make him obedient. And he knew I—" He stops then, heart racing into his mouth, because he'd nearly said _He knew I wanted Andrew_. "He knew I thought Andrew had potential, that he could be special, that he could be Court one day. He knew it, because I'd been so abysmally and cataclysmically stupid as to tell him. I should have realised that Andrew would refuse even in person, and that his refusal would make Riko angry— Angry enough stop looking at him as a potential player, and start looking at him as another potential piece of property."

 

He swallows, hand going automatically to his tattoo, but Neil catches his wrist before he makes contact and pulls his hand away.

 

"You are _not_ his property, and Andrew isn't either. _What happened_ , Kevin? He said..." Neil chews on his lip, trying to remember, a visible reminder of just how beautiful he still is, despite the scars he's gained inside and out. "He said you'd get bored of me. Like you got bored of Andrew."

 

Kevin huffs out a sound that could be a laugh, if it weren't so bitter.

 

"Because that's what I told him. What else could I say? If I told him I didn't want a pet, then he'd know I wasn't like him, and that—" He swallows hard, looking down at his shoes again. "He didn't like that. Everything he did, I had to pretend I didn't care, that it only bothered me because it was a distraction from our true purpose on the court. If he'd known how sickened I was by it all, he'd have done more of it, and he'd have forced me to participate, because he wanted... Above all else, I think he wanted someone to be like him. To think like him, to feel like him, to want what he wanted.

 

"We were a pair, but we weren't the same, and every time I reminded him of that, he took it... Poorly. So I took some time to review Andrew's file: his stats, his videos, his circumstance, and I went to Riko and said that he wasn't worth it, that someone so defiant was no use when he was this old. That it would take too long to break him for our purposes— or at least, that it would take too long to build him back up again. I said that even the prospect of it bored me, and I'd rather focus on players who actually wanted to participate in the game."

 

When he looks up again, Neil looks like he might be sick.

 

"And he believed you?"

 

"Yes," Kevin says softly. "He believed me. And he made me train for three days straight without food or sleep afterwards, for the grievous error of trying to recruit him at all, for embarrassing the team by his refusal. You know how it is —was— at Evermore: you don't just suffer for your own failings, you suffer for the shortcomings of those around you... Or, in my case, those you were responsible for. As the person who chose him, Andrew's poor manners were my responsibility, on top of my own error in selecting someone I later admitted was unsuitable."

 

"Sometimes I think we should burn that place to the ground," Neil says. There is murder in his eyes, and in that moment, Kevin believes he is completely capable.

 

...But then it passes, and he looks away.

 

"Then again, where would the Court train? Maybe it's more of an insult to rebuild it in someone else's image." He steps out of Kevin's space, finally, and it occurs to Kevin for the first time how absolutely absurd and inappropriate it must have looked, the two of them having this conversation out here. " _Your_ image, if you can stomach it," he adds, and then he's walking away.

 

It takes Kevin a second to catch up to him.

 

"Are you going to tell Andrew about this?"

 

Neil stops again, looking him over.

 

"What— that you're beating yourself up over something that isn't your fault? That you tried to save him from Riko once, that you suffered for it, that you didn't know to do it the second time because you were stupid enough to think that prick had brain inside him as well as endless fucking evil?" He shakes his head. "I wouldn't know where to start, Kevin. You can tell him yourself if you want to, but I doubt he'll care."

 

Kevin just nods, starting down the street again, but Neil's hand shoots out and curls around his elbow, holding him back. His eyes are so blue, so dark and so serious, though there's nothing of the threat in them that Kevin was expecting.

 

"But for the record: I care. You barely knew him, he'd shot you down, you knew the consequences, and you tried to protect him. Andrew holds himself in less regard than anything else, and much as I hate that, I don't see it changing any time soon. But I feel differently." There is something in his gaze that Kevin can't work out, some puzzle for which he's missing vital pieces, but there's no anger in it, no resentment, no judgment, and for that Kevin is painfully grateful. Neil is one of the few people left in his life who matters to him, and while he wants to tell himself he wouldn't care if Neil hated him, he knows the truth is something very different. "And so do you. He matters to you, and I'm glad of it. So," he says, finally tearing his gaze from Kevin's. "Like I said earlier: thank you."

 

Kevin doesn't know what to say, so he says the first thing that comes into his head:

 

"Thank _you_ ," and, off Neil's look, explains: "That weekend. With Thea. Thank you for... Saying what you did. I wasn't able. I don't know if I'll ever be able. But you said it for me. So thank you." He gives another laugh, and it sounds less bitter than the last, actually almost human. "Maybe Andrew and I should just let you do all talking for both of us."

 

Neil actually smiles for real then, and Kevin's chest aches at the sight of it.

 

"Now _that_ I'm going to tell Andrew you said. In fact, I'm going to tell everyone."

 

Kevin leans down close to Neil's ear, close enough to smell his shampoo and the faint lingering cling of his cigarettes.

 

"Nobody would believe you," he says, and then starts walking again. He doesn't see Neil laugh, but he hears it, and it's the only good thing to come out of one of the most miserable weeks he's ever lived through. When they get to the car, some of their good humour has faded a little, but Andrew and Nicky are waiting for them. Aaron is spending a couple of days with Katelyn, Nicky looks relieved to tell them, casting a glance at Andrew.

 

Andrew, of course, seems unconcerned about any tension, but Kevin notices he hovers a little closer to Neil than he normally would, so he offers to sit in the back with Nicky on the ride home. It's uncomfortable, but the tension between all of them broke with the verdict. He tunes Nicky out as he rambles on about what he's planning for the next weekend, and watches Andrew and Neil through the gap in the seats. They say little, but Andrew is clearly pleased to be back in Neil's orbit again— his eyes flick regularly from the road to Neil, and when his gaze meets Kevin's in the rearview, the bags under his eyes look a little less heavy.

 

With the trial behind them, they have the small remainder of the summer to do as they please. Erik and Katelyn both step up in the aftermath of the court battle: Erik surprises Nicky with a ticket to Germany, and Katelyn's parents offer her the use of their summer house until practice starts again. After the intensity of the trial and the forced togetherness of the house at Columbia throughout, everyone is grateful for the distance.

 

Parting is somehow still difficult despite that: it looks like it pains Nicky not to hug Andrew as he leaves for the airport, and he _does_ hug Aaron, despite his complaints. There is less fanfare when Aaron leaves with Katelyn, but Andrew disappears afterwards to smoke several cigarettes on the porch. He steals Kevin's best bottle of whiskey and refuses Neil's company, so they take it as a sign that Aaron's departure, temporary as it is, has meant something to him, even if he doesn't want to admit it to himself.

 

That's progress, of a kind.

 

Another kind is when it occurs to Kevin that he himself hadn't thought about drinking once during the trial— he'd been too preoccupied with Neil to think about himself, for one thing, and for another, this wasn't something that was outside of his control. He wasn't useless, powerless to exert any kind of change and making everything swim away in a haze of booze wasn't going to solve anything, it was only going to make him another problem to add to their list.

 

It's a small, petty thing to be proud of, but he'll take his wins where he can get them right now.

 

The thought of _wins_ makes Kevin eager to get back to PSU where they can train, but to his annoyance, Neil has other ideas.

 

"I want to take a road trip," he announces after dinner on their first night alone.

 

"What? _Why_?" Kevin asks. Andrew kicks him under the table. Kevin scowls, and kicks him back. "It's a valid question."

 

"The press are going to be all over us after the trial, and none of us want to deal with it. They'll find this place sooner or later, and then we'll be hounded. We can't go back to school; even though we've already moved out for the summer, you know it'll be even worse there. And... Because we have the time. There won't be anyone else to practice with anyway, Kevin," Neil says, but as far as Kevin's concerned, that's no argument at all.

 

"There wasn't anyone else to practice with for most of last year, and it didn't stop us then."

 

"And it's not going to stop us when we go back to school, either," Neil sighs."But when we get back on the court, we're going to have six new players to contend with, so we're going to have to make changes regardless. We haven't exactly had a relaxing summer so far, and I just think it would be a good idea to get away for a while."

 

Kevin considers this, looking from Neil's tired, hopeful face to Andrew's studied disinterest.

 

"Fine. Do whatever you want." He pushes back from the table and grabs his plate. "I can stay with Coach or with Abby, but if I hear so much as one word of complaint from you about having fallen behind when we're—"

 

"You're not coming with us?"

 

Kevin freezes at that, halfway to the sink. Neil looks... Bothered by the prospect, and though Andrew's expression hasn't changed, his attention is now firmly rested on Kevin. Kevin's gut twists, and he wants... He wants so many things, and he has no idea if he can have any of them.

 

It's better, it's _safer_ , to expect that he can't, to assume—

 

"I assumed you'd want privacy," he says, as slowly and evenly as he can manage. "That it would be—" He waves a hand, turning to put his plate in the sink so he doesn't have to look at them. "A couple's thing."

 

He hears the legs of Neil's chair scrape across the floor as he pushes it back and comes to stand at Kevin's side, leaning his ass against the counter and folding his arms across his chest.

 

"Well, you're the one who's always saying it's _easier to be heterosexual_. I'm not going back to living my life in hiding, but I don't want to broadcast my private business, either. Three people looks less obvious than two, less likely to be remarked on. Come with us." He kicks at Kevin's shoe, eyes on the floor. " _Legitimise us with your heterosexuality_ , if you're so concerned about appearances."

 

"Firstly, I said that _one time_ , and secondly: there is a difference between _It's easier to be heterosexual_ and _I am heterosexual_ ," Kevin points out, though he's not going to say any more— the last thing he wants right now is to get into his messy history with Riko, or his inappropriate feelings for Neil and Andrew. "Thirdly: you sound like Nicky. Are you trying to replace him now he's now he's gone?"

 

Neil pulls a face, and Kevin drapes the dishcloth over his head.

 

"Go get me your plates."

 

Neil pulls the cloth off and throws it at him, then goes to collect the rest of the dishes from the table. There's brief scene between him and Andrew that Kevin can see in the outlines of their shadows— a gesture on Neil's part, resistance on Andrew's, then another arm-wave from Neil before he disappears into the other room.

 

Andrew brings him the plates a moment later, dropping them on the sideboard, then catches Kevin's shoulder to turn him around.

 

"You wanted to come to the trial, but you do not want to come for this. Why?"

 

"We should be practising now we have the chance to do it without the rest of the team or the new kids underfoot."

 

"You did not care about that this week. I thought you could not willingly exist without the court, but it has been five whole days— and here you are, still in one piece." Andrew's stare is so unyielding that it's difficult to look at him. "Why was it acceptable to you to skip this week, but not another?"

 

"It's different."

 

"In what way is it different?"

 

"Because generally people don't need a show of support to fuck their boyfriend," Kevin says dryly, and Andrew's eyes narrow.

 

"I told you I did not need your support at the trial, either."

 

"But I still wanted to give it."

 

"And Neil needed it," Andrew says, almost thoughtful. Kevin shrugs and tries to turn back to the dishes again, but Andrew holds him firm, so he sighs and resigns himself to answering.

 

"Yes. But I'm guessing he doesn't need it for this."

 

Andrew lets go of him finally, and Kevin turns the water on, running it until it's hot.

 

"What he needs is for you to not be at that memorial," Andrew says after a moment, and Kevin pauses, turning the water off again.

 

"What?"

 

"The Court memorial for Riko, the one your _ex_ ," he says, with more venom than Thea merits, "Felt it _unseemly_ for you to miss. He does not want you there, and I am inclined to agree. You never answered his question." His gaze is sharp as he turns it on Kevin, and he wonders briefly if he'd get away with putting the towel over Andrew's face, too. "I intend to have better luck. _Do_ you want to go?"

 

Kevin has no answer for that, and he flounders.

 

"I don't—"

 

"Kevin. I am not asking if you think you should go, or if you are afraid of the consequences if you do not. I am asking you if you _want_ to go."

 

" _Of course I don't._ " He says it in a rush, the words spilling out of him. "Everyone will be watching me and expecting me to say something, and there is nothing I could say which would be both acceptable and true. I'm tired of lying for him, Andrew. He's _dead_ , and I still have to... Of course I don't want to go, but if I don't—"

 

"If you don't, do you think it will affect your chances of being Court?"

 

That's Kevin's worst fear, and just hearing the words aloud turns his stomach over. His fingers curl around the edge of the sink as he tries to will away the panic, and think it out. Will it affect his chances, really? Would they refuse him, considering he is arguably now the strongest college-level player in the sport? When he's the son of its creator? When he's proven himself, again and again?

 

Would they want to? Maybe. _Could_ they, reasonably?

 

No. No, they couldn't.

 

"No," he says quietly. "They'll take me anyway. They have to."

 

There's a brief flash of something like triumph in Andrew's eyes, there and gone in a moment.

 

"Then it is settled; you are coming with us. If nobody can find you, nobody can ask _you_ inconvenient questions, either. You can leave your phone with Coach; he can reach you through us if he needs you. Everyone else will have to wait, though by the time we return, the news cycle will have moved on."

 

Kevin gives him an almost-smile before beginning to fill the sink again.

 

"So you've been listening to me after all."

 

"Your voice is like nails on a chalkboard to me," Andrew says blandly. "It is very difficult to tune you out, no matter how much I would like to."

 

Kevin does flick the towel in his direction for that one, and Andrew responds by blasting him with freezing water; when Neil returns to see what the noise is, Kevin's wringing out his shirt and Andrew's taken over the dishes.

 

Neil takes one look at the sight in front of him, then simply says, "I _don't_ want to know," turns on his heel, and walks out. Kevin catches Andrew's eye and smiles; it reminds him of when he came to Palmetto first... Only this time, it's better. Andrew might not be his anymore, but there is no axe hanging above Kevin's neck, no secrets buried in Andrew's past, and now they have Neil— even if Kevin doesn't have either of them in the way he'd like, all three of them are better off than they were before: safer, stronger, happier. Things can be _like_ they were before, but not the exactly the _same_ , and maybe that's for the best.

 

"If you are planning on legitimising anything, you might want to put your shirt on," Andrew points out, stacking the plates for Kevin to dry.

 

"I don't think a wet one would do much in service of making me seem straight."

 

Andrew considers that comment for a little while, studying the plate he is washing with what looks to Kevin like unjustified interest.

 

" _Seem_ ," he says eventually, and lifts his gaze to Kevin's. Kevin knows what he's getting at, and it's not a conversation he really wants to have, but if Andrew's going to dredge this up now, he won't shy away from it entirely.

 

"You know better."

 

Andrew looks at him for a long time, then turns his attention back to the sink.

 

"Yes," he says quietly. "I know."

 

He doesn't push the conversation further, for which Kevin is grateful— it's a prickly subject, and he doesn't want to dwell on that time at all, if he can help it. He'd rather focus on the future, and the belief that whatever it holds, it will be better for all of them than their pasts have been. Andrew and Neil have each other, and Kevin... He's not sure. There are moments where it seems like he might belong with them in the way he wants to, and moments where it seems like an impossible dream. Through all of it, however, they have stuck by one another, and now, standing in this kitchen, listening to Neil getting ready for bed and watching Andrew do the dishes, he thinks he might be okay with whatever happens. Whatever way this plays out, the three of them have saved each other; now they have futures of their own to live and shape. Even if some of the changes are painful, that makes it worth it.

 

 _They_ are worth it.

 

"I'll make sure to bring dry shirts on the trip." He pauses at the doorway, not really wanting to bring the conversation back up again, but needing to say something, _anything_ , to make Andrew look at him again. "For legitimacy."

 

"You are no more legitimate than I am," Andrew points out, and it's true for both possible meanings. He gives Kevin another slow once-over, then flicks his fingers towards the door. "Go. Sleep. Otherwise you will be even more intolerable than usual tomorrow."

 

Kevin throws the dishcloth back at him, and Andrew catches it, one-handed, and without looking. They're not even on the court, but Andrew's skill still makes his stomach flip, butterflies following him upstairs as he gets ready for bed. He runs through his routine mechanically, but can't sleep when he finally gets to bed— His mind is too busy with thoughts for the future, and a tiny, irritating grain of hope he can't entirely expunge. Neil had asked him to come, and Andrew had given him a reason to say yes. He's not sure what that means, but he knows it means something.

 

 _He_ means something.

 

Thea's words come back to him: _The child is in love with you_ and _You and your guard dog were joined at the hip_ loop in his head until he has to pull the pillow out from underneath himself and crush it against his ears to block out them out. Just because he means _something_ doesn't mean he means— _That._

 

It doesn't matter anyway.

 

No, he has no idea where they will go from here— on their trip, even, much less in life, but it seems they are determined to take him with them. For now, that's all the direction he needs.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah: in case you were wondering? Andrew absolutely thinks Kevin is in love with Neil, and only Neil. Which is unfortunate, because now that he's had some time off his meds and no longer has to function as Kevin's protector, he's begun to re-discover his inconvenient feelings for Kevin. Meanwhile, Neil: also re-discovering his inconvenient feelings for Kevin, and thinks Kevin's interest lies solely with Andrew. As for Kevin... Well, Kevin is just pathetically in love with both of them, and too scared to believe either one of them is interested, so he's trying very hard to make himself stop wanting what he can't have.
> 
> Of course, if Neil would tell Andrew about the hand-holding, and Andrew would tell Neil about what Kevin said Andrew was to him, maybe they might all figure out some things...?
> 
> A sequel about their roadtrip is in the works; it was originally supposed to be the final chapter to this fic, but we're now at 20k and only two days in, so... It'll take a little longer. In the mean time, I might post some other things from this verse, set in the future after their eventual togetherness happens? We'll see.
> 
> Until then, you can find me on Tumblr under [@onlycareaboutexy](https://onlycareaboutexy.tumblr.com/), where I am constantly screaming about Kevin and Kandreil, and always happy to have company in those endeavours. 
> 
> Two last quick things: firstly, _huge_ thanks to [Elysabeth](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Elysabeth/pseuds/Elysabeth) who was kind enough to check the French for my monolinguistic ass. I would have embarrassed myself far worse if not for her...! 
> 
> Finally: thank you to everyone who has left kudos and comments on this story, and on my others. It means more than you will ever believe, and I appreciate them so very much. I know this isn't a very popular ship in this fandom, so I am incredibly grateful for every positive message I've gotten about this story and this series. You guys have been terrific. ❤️

**Author's Note:**

> I love to scream about Kandreil and Kevin both, so always feel free to stop by to say hi to me at [@onlycareaboutexy](https://onlycareaboutexy.tumblr.com) on Tumblr! 


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